Wait them out

Status: Uninfected

Your Equipment: Ragged Panties, Ragged Tank-top, Ragged shorts, Hunting Knife, Pistol (7/7)

Your Inventory: Canned food (7), Bottled Water (15), Flashlight, Batteries (2), Duct Tape (3'), Twine (12' roll, 15' length), Blanket, Tattered Sundresses (2), Ragged Panties (3), Cabin Keys, Pistol Ammo (23), Pistol magazine (7/7), Tarp, Beef Jerkey

You duck back behind the window, clutching the pistol to your chest with a white-knuckled **** grip, listening to the approaching footsteps. Your breaths come in deep, ragged gasps, which you try to clamp down on. Your eyes water, tears threatening to stream down your face as fear grips you. Your pulse pounds in your ears, making it difficult to determine exactly where the footsteps are, though they seem to be getting closer.

You risk another peek over the sill of the window, spotting the Infected all of fifty feet away. Their monster cocks stand erect in front of them, bobbing back and forth as they walk. One of them suddenly stops, and sniffs the air, then seems looks straight at you.

Before you can react, a deep, keening wail resounds through the forest. While you're not sure exactly where it came from, it seems to have come from the direction of the highway. The Infected that hadn't looked at you cocks its' head, the suddenly tears off in the direction of the highway. The other futa freezes, seemingly torn between charging you and answering the call from its' brethren.

You stay there, eyes locked with the futa's for what seems like an eternity, panic preventing you from moving.